


The Windmills In My Mind

by QuinnCelement



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:04:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinnCelement/pseuds/QuinnCelement
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lauren was taken prisoner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Windmills In My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> People are like stained - glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.  
> Elisabeth Kubler-Ross 
> 
> ***  
> The finale is long over but the stories keep coming.

Two years.

As I stepped out of the vehicle and tried to reconcile the fact that I am finally free, I wondered about the meaning of the word.

It took the authorities this long to track the facility where Taft's men kept me and the rest of the faes he used as experiments, prisoners.

I have no doubt he died in the hands of Dyson.  
In my mind, I wished the wolf won't go down to that level but he is still an animal.   
It's a vital part of the duality of his nature.

Dyson also suffered at the hands of Taft.  
His agony may be short-lived but it is enough to incite his anger for the brutality he went through.

I am aware of the laws of the fae.  
They shouldn't inflict harm to their kind.  
Taft may not be a legitimate fae but when I did the experiment, he was bound by that law.  
Sadly, I also know how the law works in the fae world.

No one knew where they took me.  
I don't even know if they cared to look for me.

When the guards realized what was going on when Bo came in, they hauled me in a closed van together with the other faes they captured.  
We barely have space inside the small vehicle and I smelled the scent of fear.  
I couldn't see the agony in there eyes because the van was dark.  
The doctor in me was seething with anger.  
Most of them were crying while a few others muttered obscenities at Taft.  
I kept quiet and made a mental note of what was happening around me.  
At that moment, the only thing I can do was pray.  
It was something I haven't done in a long time but didn't totally abandon.  
In my mind I know that faith was the only thing I can hold on to.  
My science brought me to this situation and it brought little comfort.

When the van pulled to a stop, I was weary with hunger and misery.  
My legs hurt from sitting too long in the cramped car.

Three men opened the door and commanded all of us to get out.

My eyes were assaulted by the bright light and I glanced at my watch.  
We have been travelling for more than twelve hours and it was already afternoon when we reached our destination.  
I looked around me and saw that they brought us to a deserted beach.  
A boat was waiting for us and I can only guess where they'll take us.  
My instinct tells me that it's not a place where they serve margaritas.

***

Taft was a billionaire and a madman.  
He was mad enough to built a fortress resembling Alcatraz.

The cell was dark, damp and extremely cold.

A single bed stood at the far end of the wall.

The place was a complete contrast to the state-of-the-art laboratory he took me when he recruited me to work for him.

There wasn't a night when I didn't have nightmares.

If it was from the agonizing cries of the other prisoners or the fact that we were starved to death, then I am at a loss to explain the reason why I was visited with night terrors so often.

I couldn't determine the difference between day and night because of the perpetual darkness.

The cell was windowless.  
The stale air made me gag and in the beginning, I would just throw up.  
I chastised myself for my inability to control my responses primarily because the stench adds to the foul odour in the cell and I would have to deal with it for weeks.

Food was served around six o' clock and I was thankful that they didn't take away my watch.  
It was the only thing that kept me sane.  
The awareness of time reinforced my will to survive in this place.  
At night, when I know that the guards have left, I would stare at the luminous light till I close my eyes to sleep.  
Tears flow freely and I let it escape.  
I was afraid that if I don't, I would lose my sanity.

***

For a month, I was never allowed to get out of my cell.

I walked around it a thousand times that I have memorized the dimensions, the feel of the cold floor against my feet and the roughness of the walls.

There were days when I feel my sanity slipping away and when that happens, I try to look for a happier place but it was useless.  
The growling in my stomach and the fact that I am physically deteriorating made positive thinking not only a challenge but an impossibility.  
I thought of the people in history who were brave enough to overcome the ordeal they encountered and wished I could have an ounce of their courage.  
I thought of Bo and for the first time in months, I smiled.

***


End file.
